<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Pilot's Chair by NegativeCoconut</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27482761">Pilot's Chair</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegativeCoconut/pseuds/NegativeCoconut'>NegativeCoconut</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental edgeplay (lol), Aged-Up Character(s), Banter, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Suit Kink, Chair Sex, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Friends With Benefits (for a hot minute), Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, Keith is overworked, Lance is Worried, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutually Unrequited, Oral Sex, POV Lance (Voltron), Pilot Keith (Voltron), Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 08, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, porn that became plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:26:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,524</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27482761</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegativeCoconut/pseuds/NegativeCoconut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance and Keith are on route to complete a humanitarian relief mission. Lance is worried that Keith is overworking himself and he breaks out his best 'tactics' to convince him to relax. </p>
<p>Background: Takes place two years after the end of Season 8. Lance occasionally works missions with Keith &amp; The Blade of Marmora, which now primarily aims to distribute resources in order to rebuild civilizations all around the universe and deplete threats from lingering empathizers of the defeated Galran Empire.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Lance (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pilot's Chair</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>They're so oblivious.</p>
<p>PS: I came back to psych myself up to finish my other on-going fic and then suddenly this was 8k words - forgive me for I have sinned lol</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Black hair sifts between his fingers. It’s long and heavy and smooth. Lance remembers all those years ago when it bunched up aggressively at his friend’s neck in his signature mullet. He chuckles to himself.</p>
<p>The man in question squints at Lance through the glass reflection of the cockpit window, one brow perked in suspicion. He shifts in the pilot seat.</p>
<p>“You’d better not be doing anything weird back there,” Keith murmurs.</p>
<p>“Oh please.” Lance pats him knowingly. “The only one abusing your hair around here is you.” Lance has seen the excuse-for-conditioner-goop the guy has stocked in his ship’s showers.</p>
<p>Keith snorts, but he must be feeling particularly diplomatic because he doesn’t open his mouth to argue. They both know who would win a debate about hair care products.</p>
<p>Lance finishes the braid with a flourish. He lets it fall to Keith’s neck, wily wisps already attempting to escape and curl at his nape. Some things never change.</p>
<p>Lance splays himself along the back of the pilot’s chair, an elbow playfully resting on Keith’s shoulder and the other dangling along the armrest on the other side. His fingers skim the fabric of the BOM suit Keith <em>still</em> wears for relief missions. To be fair it's pretty much his everyday uniform now and the suit comes equipped with some spiffy war hero medals and a ranked adornment declaring him an official representative of the Galactic Coalition. In other words, he's still a showoff.</p>
<p>Lance sighs dramatically.</p>
<p>“Are we there yet?” he asks, a whining pout in his voice. To be perfectly candid, Lance wouldn’t mind if the trip lasted all night, but he’s got a front to keep up and gosh darn he's going to <em>do it.</em></p>
<p>Keith was a busy guy these days and his presence was always needed on humanitarian aid missions (er...alien-tarian?) long past the end of the war and far from Earth. More and more often it seemed that Lance would get calls from Keith at odd hours of the night, his deep raspy voice sounding thick and crackly as he asks if Lance might be free to work a mission with him. Lance always has to pretend to think about it before he replies with some variation of: ‘I <em>guess</em> I can make time. See you soon, Team Leader.’ Keith can never know he keeps a to-go bag by the front door for these precise moments.</p>
<p>Lance is shaken out of his thoughts by Keith chuckling, bangs fluttering at his puff of breath.</p>
<p>“Gee, must have missed our stop. Let me just make a U-Turn at the next black hole.” Keith twists in his seat to give him a half-hearted glare. “What did you think I meant by ‘all-nighter,’ Lance?”</p>
<p>His voice may be hard, but his face gives him away. He is no doubt eyeing the dark circles beneath Lance’s eyes. Lance huffs in response, regretting the extra hours put in at the Garrison this week. He really needed an intern. How does a defender of the universe not automatically get an intern?</p>
<p>“Hey.” Keith’s squinting a bit too knowingly as though he can hear Lance's train of thought (which, considering the intensity of his stare, often makes Lance wonder. And maybe panic a little.) </p>
<p>“If you so desperately need to catch up on sleep you can, you know. You know the password to my room.” Keith's braid tumbles over his shoulder as he gestures to the sliding door behind them with a flutter of his gloved hand. Lance can’t help but notice as he absentmindedly traces the shape of the braid with his fingers as he does so. It definitely does <em>not</em> make his heart trip. </p>
<p>Seeming as 'High Highness' has all but dismissed him, Lance clears his throat. Loudly. “Okay, first of all - beauty sleep is real, buddy. It’s science,” he says, much like a master bestowing his knowledge on his pupil. Secretly, he’d also really like to bestow some sleep on Keith.</p>
<p>“And second, I see right through you, Mullet Man! You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Keith is rolling his eyes and the motion can be seen in the reflection. Naturally, Lance gives his braid a teasing tug in retaliation.</p>
<p>"Ow." Keith monotones and Lance grins impishly at the back of his friend's head.</p>
<p>He could spend an eternity right here behind Keith, knowingly driving him crazy, guarding the strong slope of his powerful shoulders and willing himself not to lean forward and knead his fatigued muscles. Lance isn't sure whether this makes him the worst or the best ‘friend with benefits’ in the galaxy. </p>
<p>“And this is the thanks I get for offering you my room,” Keith chuckles, playfully batting at Lance's hand. His raven bangs dip low across his forehead, hiding his eyes. It doesn’t do much to hide his lips though. That smile is somehow both crooked and tiny and grinch-like as it curls at the corners. He’s so fucking adorable. How is it that a grown-ass man can be adorable when he spends most of his life leaping into battle with sharp, pointy blades? </p>
<p>Lance tries (probably unsuccessfully) to school his expression and lets his chin rest with a dull thump on the top of Keith’s head. They spend a few ticks in companionable silence and Lance’s eyes find their way back to the poorly hidden smirk on Keith's lips an embarrassing number of times.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, the way Keith rolls his shoulders and grimaces at the pull in his muscles also does not go unnoticed. Lance pulls back to peer down at the man.</p>
<p>“Wow, here's a bright idea! Maybe <em>you</em> should sleep." Shocking no one, Keith ignores him as though he hadn't even spoken. <em>Rude.</em></p>
<p>Lance pouts and curls his arm over the crown of Keith's head to boop him on the nose. And...he misses and pokes his eye instead. Keith yelps. "Whoops!" Keith grumbles and rubs his eye. "Sorry!"</p>
<p>Lance continues on like the brave soldier he is. (Well. Actually he's a teacher, but when you work at the Garrison it's basically the same thing.) "You’ve been flying for hours. Come on - even <em>you</em> said we’ve got plenty of time ‘til we’re planet-side.”</p>
<p>“It's an easy route, Lance. Nothing I have't done by myself. Plus, Galrans run on 36-hour days. I’m used to it." He pauses, eyebrow cocked. Lance can practically <em>see</em> him thinking something sassy. "Good thing too because I'm also used to having two eyes to see where I'm flying.”</p>
<p>And people say <em>Lance </em>is the dramatic one. They've obviously never met an over-tired Keith. He sighs and the tiny tufts of hair along Keith's nape flutter. "You're hopeless," he groans. Keith shivers, shoulders shuddering beneath Lance's weight. Great. Now his friend is tired <em>and</em> cold.</p>
<p>Lance tries again, attempting to sound commanding. “Listen up, Mr. McMullet. You work too hard - you're gonna go gray faster than Shiro. Even kickass space samurais need rest sometimes,” he scolds. Unfortunately, it comes out as more of a compliment. Keith gives a little cough, turning away. His face looks red in the reflection. Lance swallows.</p>
<p>“Fine, you don't have to sleep. But at least take a break and let me fly?” Lance tries.</p>
<p>"Maybe on the way home," Keith murmurs. "Plus, this is a new ship. The controls are a little complicated so it's better if I just get us there in one piece." Lance rolls his eyes. Typical. So protective of his stupid ship. Why is it harder to convince Keith to take a nap than his baby cousins? </p>
<p>Lance peers up to find Keith watching his exasperated expression reflected in the glass. Keith smirks. Uh oh. Lance has a tick to regret everything before Keith presses into the thrusters and Lance loses his balance. He practically somersaults over Keith and into his lap. Instead he just bangs his elbow on the seatback and it goes numb. "Ouch, ouch!"</p>
<p>"See? Stick to backseat flyer," Keith chuckles at his own terrible joke. </p>
<p>"Okay, I know that revenge for poking your eye, grumpy gills! I <em>said</em> I was sorry!" Lance laughs, rubbing his elbow. Keith snickers, directing them smoothly onto the flight path once more.  </p>
<p>Well then. Time to play dirty.</p>
<p>Lance lets one hand fall to Keith’s knee. He gives it a gentle squeeze. “<em>Or...</em> I know a couple of other ways we could relax. <em>Together.</em>” He waggles his eyebrows playfully.</p>
<p>“Lance,” Keith admonishes with a startled laugh. “All you think about is slacking off.”</p>
<p>Lance sucks in air, an exaggerated gasp. He places a hand over his chest and stumbles over the back of the chair like he’s been shot by a blaster, his cheek smushing into Keith's shoulder like an unpragmatic hug. Keith grunts out a tiny sound that might be a gasp as well.</p>
<p>“Damn buddy. That’s a direct hit.” Lance eyes the man’s profile, his nose barely an inch from his sharp jaw. “But that’s not precisely what I meant.”</p>
<p>“Oh really.” Keith deadpans, a low raspy sound. “You don’t say.”</p>
<p>Lance blinks with innocent, embellished flutters and Keith barks a laugh that sounds like it snuck its way out unbidden. It sounds loud in the suddenly charged air inside the cockpit. Lance takes a tick to admire the way those cavernous indigo eyes crinkle at the edges. He’s laughing a lot tonight. Lance feels a zippy kind of warmth pooling in his stomach.</p>
<p>“Idiot,” Keith says, lacking heat.</p>
<p>And Lance can’t stop himself. “An idiot for bad-tempered half-Galran pilots? Maybe.” And. Well. Maybe that one was a bit too far because Keith cringes. Noted.</p>
<p>“Do you ever think about what comes out of your mouth?” As soon as he says it, Keith looks like he regrets it. He knows Lance oh-so-well it seems.</p>
<p>“Funny you should say that. You seemed to love my mouth so much we almost flew into that asteroid field last month-“</p>
<p>Keith moves like a snake. His hand snaps to cover his partner’s mouth, which is somewhat impressive given he still has one hand hovering over the navigation panel with perfect coordination.<em> Truly the best pilot of their generation.</em> Lance snorts at the thought and Keith glares up at him for probably the hundredth time this trip.</p>
<p>“Really, Lance?” An eyebrow jumps over one of his violet eyes.</p>
<p>Lance's voice is muffled behind Keith's hand. “Who do you think is gonna hear us out here, dude!”</p>
<p>Even though his lips brush Keith's glove, he can still feel the pressure of the calloused skin of his palm through the material. He can't help but notice his lips fit perfectly into the creases and grooves of his hand.</p>
<p>Keith's face does something weird. He snatches his hand away. Lance blinks at him. <em>Maybe I teased him too much.</em></p>
<p>Lance straightens until he's lined up against the seatback with both hands on the armrests on either side of the grumpy mop of raven hair. He lets his feisty co-pilot brew for a moment before he leans forward to try and gently maneuver Keith’s fingers off the controls with prodding pokes.</p>
<p>"In all seriousness, dude - this is the least I can do. Let me take over so you can relax a bit. Otherwise, what’s the point of me tagging along at all?” </p>
<p>Keith is silent. For way too long.</p>
<p>Lance chews his cheek and risks a glance at him. He freezes, surprised to find that Keith is already eyeing him, gaze darting all over his face like he's looking for something. And their faces <em>close.</em> A minuscule turn of his head and their noses would bump. Something like invisible static pops and crackles in the air between them at close range. </p>
<p>Lance feels heat flaring on the tips of his ears because he is almost certain that Keith’s fierce gaze lingers on his lips. Which is weird. Because even though they mess around they’ve never kissed. Not once. It’s some unspoken part of some unspoken deal they’ve had going for months now. Lance has never asked. Because he doesn’t want to know.</p>
<p>Well. If he’s being painfully honest, he already knows doesn't he? Keith simply doesn’t love him. Not in the way Lance feels for him. </p>
<p>Keith finally bites his lip and looks away. Lance is sure he’s about to be brushed off. Which shouldn’t sting at this point (it’s more of a dull, unending throb now anyway.) It's rarely ever awkward between them anymore so that's a testament to how incredibly overrated Lance's conversational skills are these days (despite having just presented three lectures on aerodynamic flight procedurals for the advanced class at the Garrison earlier this week.) He lets go of Keith’s rigid hand, feeling his throat tightening. </p>
<p>Instead Lance jumps about a foot and a half into the air when Keith flicks the autopilot on with a practical flick of his thumb and snatches Lance’s retreating hand, trapping him there against his knee.</p>
<p>Speaking of his legs (the likes of which Lance actively tries not to think about when in close quarters with the blade, for fear he might actually drool over him,) the BOM suit is practically welded to Keith's frame. It barely feels like anything is between his palm and the compact muscles below. To be clear, Lance is very much not complaining. Not saying anything at all actually - he stands awkwardly frozen, eyeing the hard cut lines of the dark grays and purples of the suit. </p>
<p>Keith’s pointedly not looking at Lance, but there’s a deep flush rising along his neck. The pale man swallows with a dry click of his throat and Lance tracks the motion. It’s sort of amazing how someone who looks like <em>Keith</em> manages to be embarrassed anytime they fuck around.</p>
<p>He's not usually <em>this</em> nervous though. It's practically contagious. </p>
<p>“You-” Keith stutters and starts again. He's wearing a tiny frown and his forehead is wrinkling with what looks like consternation now. Lance has an urge to smooth away the wrinkle between his brows, but the act would be too intimate right now.</p>
<p>“How can you not know why.” It’s more of a statement than a question and Lance blinks at the almost somber tone to his voice. He swears there's a tremor there. </p>
<p>The other problem is that Lance can’t remember what he asked to begin with. And he's probably never going to because Keith is tugging their cupped hands, wordlessly guiding him up along his leg toward his thigh. </p>
<p>"Know...what now?" Lance babbles. </p>
<p>The hiss of skin on sleek Kevlar is loud in the cockpit. Lance isn’t sure if he’s vibrating or it’s simply the metal floor of the ship beneath his boots as they sail through space. Lance’s whole arm feels clenched tight. Even he can see his veins standing out on his brown skin. After a perilously long time, Keith’s grip lightens, and he drags his fingertips along a pronounced vein on Lance’s forearm. </p>
<p>“That’s so hot.” Blunt, but effective as usual. Lance almost dies right there. </p>
<p>“I didn’t know you liked my arms,” he struggles to say the words.</p>
<p>Lance watches with rapt attention as Keith removes his gloves. And then Lance's gloves. Pale fingers trace the two pronounced bones rotating at his wrist and Lance can’t tear his eyes from the clashing compositions of their skin tones. It’s a strange thing to notice, but there's something shockingly beautiful and pleasing about it.  </p>
<p>“Believe it or not-” Keith’s voice is soft and gravelly even though it’s only the two of them alone in a ship in some unnamed galaxy. Lance’s breath hitches in surprise as Keith’s lips skim his ear “-there’re still a lot of things you don’t know, Sharpshooter.” </p>
<p>Lance swallows. He opens his mouth but no words come out - it's like his mouth is suddenly full of cotton and he's frozen stiff looming over the man from behind. Keith raises one brow at his silence, hot palm pressing firmly atop Lance’s, a quiet plea to do something. </p>
<p>"Wow, nothing to say to that?" Keith sounds surprised. And maybe even a little bit proud to have beaten Lance at his own verbal game.</p>
<p>Apparently, Lance’s brain doesn’t get the message to his limbs fast enough because Keith growls quietly and tugs insistently until Lance's hands are gripping along his solid inner thigh, tan fingers splayed wide. Lance squeezes the corded muscle (at least his body can cover for his useless brain.) Keith’s leg quivers under the touch. </p>
<p>“<em>Aye</em> <em>dios</em>,” Lance breathes, black hair tickling his nose and lips. “Message received.”</p>
<p>Keith <em>tsks</em> at him, “Most of it, anyway.”</p>
<p>Whatever <em>that's </em>suppose to mean.</p>
<p>Lance lets his thumb wander dangerously, massaging the crease of hip and thigh. He hides his smile in Keith’s hair when he hisses a jagged breath. Slender fingers follow the subtle flow in the fabric of the suit, mapping a soft arced path. Lance uses both hands to slowly knead into the wall of hard muscle across Keith’s abdomen. There's not even a dimple in the material as he tests the give of the suit, but he knows Keith can feel it. When he presses a little <em>harder,</em> the man's stomach muscles contract like a ripple over water. A shiver makes it way up Lance's spine one notch at a time. He presses again just to feel the shifting muscles beneath his fingertips. </p>
<p>"I still can't believe they let you walk around like this," Lance whispers, pouting for real this time. There's no way half the universe hasn't ogled Keith's tight ass while he's 'parkour-ing' around alien planets in clothes like these. </p>
<p>"With <em>extreme</em> frustration for my cock-tease of a teammate? Me neither."</p>
<p>"Geesh, <em>so </em>grumpy today!" Lance mockingly chides. "No, Keith. Wearing this <em>sexy</em> suit should be considered a crime." Keith wheezes in response.</p>
<p>"It's armor, Lance," he grunts.</p>
<p>"Uh-huh. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"</p>
<p>Lance, smirking rather devilishly, is not careful about letting his fingers brush the 'V' below his partner's hips. Keith pants quietly. “Something you want there, buddy?” Lance murmurs and the man’s hips stutter. His chin is hooked over his partner’s shoulder and he finds his cheek suddenly flush with Keith’s, their skin is hot where it presses together. The suit is starting to cling tighter to Keith as he begins to sweat (which Lance might have previously thought impossible given the thing is <em>molded </em>to him.) Lance eyes the outline of his dick, growing more prominent by the second. </p>
<p>“Hey Red.” He purrs into the shell of Keith’s ear, knuckles brushing ever lower. “Can I touch?”</p>
<p>“Fuck.” Keith’s chest is rising and falling in short bursts and his voice is muffled. One of his legs twitches open wider. There’s a dark spot spreading above the tenting material. “You don’t have to ask.”</p>
<p>Lance skims his fingers over the slick material, slides his fingers down the stocky silhouette of Keith’s thickening cock. "Consent is sexy, my friend."</p>
<p>Keith looks fucking <em>good</em> like this. His hair is still confined within the braid, but the long strands that have escaped are curling wildly around his face and his skin is fully saturated in a lovely pink blush. The suit's material does nothing to hide how hard he is. His dick is beginning to shine and glint lewdly in the dark. Again, he must have taken too long because both of Keith’s hands snap to Lance’s dominant arm, clinging and digging his nails in.</p>
<p>“Dude, you’re gonna shred my arms. I thought you liked them,” Lance laughs.</p>
<p>“Shut it. Hurry up and use ‘em for something useful,” Keith growls, impatient. This is more like the Keith that Lance knows. Lance can deal with <em>this</em>. </p>
<p>“Since you asked so nicely!” Lance snips playfully. Keith snarls. His hips cant up into Lance’s fingers and roll sensually for friction. His growl cuts off into a groan. Lance feels his own pants tightening at the sound.</p>
<p>Giving up on playing coy, Lance presses into Keith’s crotch hard, fingers groping and rubbing. They both moan at the squelch.</p>
<p>Holy shit, maybe Lance <em>has</em> teased him too much. To be fair, Keith rarely lets him do anything in uniform (even though the guy has like twenty of the same freaking outfits. There is video evidence of Lance having an absolute fit over the lack of diversity in his wardrobe.)</p>
<p>Through the damp fabric, he grips him at the base and squeezes. The chair digs into Lance’s stomach and he ignores it as he reaches, content to eye Keith’s face when those dark brows furrow in bliss. Lance allows Keith to maneuver his hand so he can rut into the meat of his palm for a moment. Then he takes a soft grip over the sensitive head, kneading gently. He aims to slide his thumb through the slit, unsure if his aim is true through the fabric.</p>
<p>“Mmm, fuck.” Keith groans, the sound like melting honey. Lance smiles to himself. Guess his aim was on point. He’s truly deserving of an award because he doesn’t ruin the mood with what would obviously be an amazing joke about his sharp-shooting skills. </p>
<p>His fingers are drenched in pre-come. On impulse, Lance drags them up to the vee below Keith’s abdomen, spreading the slick with long strokes and admiring the shine along his taut muscles, glinting darkly. Keith would bitch at him for it later, but damn if he didn’t look like a wet dream come alive, spread and wanting in the pilot's chair. When Lance slides back down, quick and hard, sticky shine coats his entire palm and he feels the raven-haired man throbbing for him in wicked pulses that look so intense they might actually hurt.</p>
<p>“You’re soaking straight through the suit, Red. How long’s it been?” Lance breathes against his throat.</p>
<p>Keith's eyes flash a vivid yellow for just a tick (which Lance has come to know means he's flustered or overwhelmed with emotion.) And <em>god</em> Lance’s stomach drops just a little as he hopes he’s the last person who’d touched him and that Keith didn't just think of some attractive alien somewhere in the universe. A tiny bubble of acid sizzles in his gut at the thought.</p>
<p>A thought that he has no right to have. Lance blinks away hot shame prickling at his eyes. <em>When did that happen?</em></p>
<p>He returns to pressing and kneading Keith's clothed length, occasionally dropping to massage his sharp hip bones and toned thighs. Keith is watching his hands, face slack and jaw occasionally unhinging when Lance lets his knuckles brush slightly lower, between his cheeks. Lance feels the wet pooling there too and realizes the seat is slowly becoming drenched beneath him. </p>
<p>"Oh my god. Keith, look at you." Lance flexes his fingers and scissors them in Keith’s lap. They both watch the pre-come and slick stretching between the digits. Lance has to grip his dick so he doesn’t blow his load at the sight. Keith tips his chin back, head flung back over the headrest. His face is flushed a deep red as he gazes at the metallic ceiling. </p>
<p>Lance pulls back, eyeing the exposed column of Keith’s white throat and his heaving chest. He knows Keith needs this, needs to lose control and let go of the tension that lives in his body like a living bolt of lightning. Keith might straight up pass out after he cums tonight. That would be fine. Great, even. Lance would take over piloting and Keith wouldn't be conscious to see him worry himself stupid over the man's lack of sleep. (Or over how he'd fuck up the controls on the new ship.)</p>
<p>Lance feels years of worry boiling to the surface. Let's just say it's been a <em>hot minute</em> since the war ended and Lance can count on one hand the number of times he's actually <em>seen </em>Keith sleep. The idiot is <em>still</em> throwing himself onto the front lines constantly, like a danger-seeking missile<em>.</em> He's grossly thrilled to help everyone and anything in the universe, as though he <em>personally</em> owes them his aid and protection. </p>
<p>...and with his Galran heritage, sometimes Lance thinks that Keith <em>does</em> feel that way. Like he owes them for the utter devastation caused by the Galran Empire.</p>
<p><em>This idiot. </em>This grumpy, professionally overworked<em> idiot. </em>His not-so-subtle magnanimity is decidedly and definitely <em>not</em> one of the reasons Lance loves him (nope, not at all,) but he'd much prefer it if Keith didn't blame himself for the destruction of the universe and work like he's paying off a debt that can never truly be paid in full. </p>
<p>Fucking <em>quiznack. </em></p>
<p>Lance sighs. Keith releases a questioning hum.</p>
<p>Lance grips him around the middle, digging his face into Keith's overheated shoulder. He feels like an overprotective koala.</p>
<p>This is probably not the time to say this but. Here it goes.</p>
<p>“Keith, I-“ his voice cracks a bit, ”I know we don’t talk about us. Like whatever this is.” He gestures between them awkwardly. He’s not even totally sure Keith is listening. Last he looked the guy was gazing at the navigation panel above them with a blissed-out expression. Lance fumbles on before he can talk himself out of the admission, ”And we don’t have to talk details or anything. I just hope you know I don’t partner with you on these missions for sex, okay?” </p>
<p>Keith stiffens. </p>
<p><em>Wait.</em> Maybe that sounded bad. <em>Fuckfuckfuckfuck-</em></p>
<p>“That came out wrong! It's not that I don't like it! I do in fact very much not <em>not</em> like it!" He laughs a little hysterically and resists a much-needed face palm. <em>Someone please</em> <em>eject me into the sweet abysmal void of space.</em></p>
<p>"Look. You're my best friend. So what I'm <em>trying to say</em> is. Before any of <em>this stuff - </em>as hot as it is - and might I say this is <em>super </em>hot. Like, I <em>thought</em> I had some sexy wet dreams, but compared to this-"</p>
<p>"<em>Lance</em>." Keith is probably confused as hell. He's lost in social situations on a good day and Lance is really not throwing him a bone here. Lance releases a giant breath.</p>
<p>"You're important. To a <em>lot</em> of people.” Lance licks his lips. "You’re important to <em>me. </em>And I think the work you do is <em>amazing - </em>some next-level shit." Keith gives a derisive little snort and Lance charges on, encouraged. "You're a goddamn hero - you save lives every day. But you have to admit it's a lot. And as your wonderful, giving friend I would like to point out that sometimes it's too much. Even for you." </p>
<p>Keith draws a breath. Before he can interject and claim he's just peachy and not overworked in the least, Lance powers on.</p>
<p>"So if there's anything I can do, whether it's flying your ship or just -" his voice has gotten soft. "Or whether it's making you feel good, then... lay it on me. You deserve to feel good, Keith. And I want to. Make you feel good that is." Lance licks his lips, feeling like there are butterflies taking flight in his stomach and suddenly aware he's spewing this nonsense covered in Keith's slick. </p>
<p>It's silent in the cockpit.</p>
<p>Keith’s lips part, forming a distressed-looking little ‘o’ and he flushes a deep scarlet. Lance wonders if he’s about to self-combust. Or like, never invite Lance on a mission again. Which would possibly be the worst thing to ever happen to him. So like, no pressure. </p>
<p>He meets Keith’s gaze, meets the black depth of his dilated pupils.</p>
<p>"Sorry - I made this weird, didn't I?” Lance asks. Keith looks like he’s thinking about something very hard.</p>
<p><em>Don’t hurt yourself, Red.</em> Lance thinks with a mental eyeroll, a little bit frustrated that Keith is dragging this out and extending his torture. Maybe this was a terrible idea. Keith was supposed to be the impulsive one between the two of them. </p>
<p>Turns out, Keith is one hundred-and-ten percent still the impulsive one.</p>
<p>Keith raises one hand to grip Lance’s collar, choking him a bit. Lance makes a wild mental note that he might be into that before Keith yanks hard enough to dislocate something and Lance can barely compute what’s happening. Well he <em>can</em> but he’s having trouble believing it. </p>
<p>Keith is kissing him and it kind of hurts because he’s pressing <em>so</em> hard. Lance is suddenly intoxicated with the heady scent of Keith. Dreamily, Lance thinks this must be what liquid fire smells and feels like: molten, crackling, and incredibly hot. </p>
<p>Keith laves his tongue quickly over Lance's lower lip. He feels the hint of sharp teeth, a brisk yet dirty tug on his skin. Lance's eyes widen at the barely audible moan that comes from deep in Keith's chest, vibrating like a purr. Keith's fingers are shaking where they are clenched in Lance’s shirt. And fuck, Keith has Lance’s permission to ruin any of his shirts from now until forever because <em>holy wow</em> he’s always wanted to do this. He’s already tilting his head to meet him halfway -</p>
<p>But Keith is pulling away and his lips are suddenly wet and cold.</p>
<p>Keith's still looking at his lips. He clears his throat. “You do."</p>
<p>Lance is swaying, feeling very much like he just stepped off a defective rollercoaster. "Uh. Sorry, I do what?" he asks. </p>
<p>The shorter man looks out of breath even though it was a brief kiss. At least, Lance thinks it was a kiss and that he didn’t just hallucinate the last several ticks. Weirder things have happened in space.</p>
<p>“You make me feel good,” Keith confirms, a growl in his voice. “You always do.” Keith lifts his gaze and his eyes are glassy. The sight inexplicably makes Lance’s heart <em>ache</em>. </p>
<p>Lance know his mouth is hanging open and it takes him a solid minute to find the strength to speak. He wonders if Keith knows he just blew his mind. “Uh, good. That’s good.” </p>
<p>Keith barks out a laugh. “Yes, it’s good. More than good actually.” It's quiet again while the two eye each other. After a moment, when it looks like Lance won't be able to string any more words together, Keith's eyes take on a mischievous glint. Pale fingers snake down his own taut body with slow precision. He palms his cock, lewdly bucking into his own grip. </p>
<p>“I'm going to take you up on that offer. Don’t stop making me feel good. <em>Please</em>.” </p>
<p>Lance growls and the echo in the cockpit is borderline feral. Keith grins at the sound, releasing a compulsive shiver as Lance practically climbs over the armrest to kneel, stumbling down between Keith’s legs. His knees hit the floor with a metal-sounding thunk. He looks up at Keith.</p>
<p>The dim lights of passing stars sprinkle his companion in gentle flickers and Lance marvels at the scene above him. Hooded violet eyes gaze down, glowing golden when the light hits just right. Keith’s grin is cheeky and wide and affectionate and it steals Lance’s breath away. Lance wants to kiss him again. He wonders if he’s allowed. </p>
<p>Lance parts Keith’s knees slowly, far enough to nudge against the armrests on either side of the pilot’s chair. He leans down slow, never breaking eye contact. The suit is smooth against Lance’s lips when he kisses Keith’s cock, hard and upright against his abs. He traces it, open mouthed. His tongue arcs and curls as he pulls his lips back so Keith can see every suck and stretch as he lets his teeth catch on the fabric.</p>
<p>“Mmm,” Keith grinds his hips up, eyes rolling when Lance’s teeth press and grip the head of his cock, just how Keith likes it. Lance takes in the sexy pulses of his dick, the twitching visible even beneath the BOM suit. The fever heat fills his mouth and makes him dizzy in the most amazing way. He licks a long stripe from his balls to his tip, soaking Keith further. Keith whines. It’s a rather pathetic sound and Lance coos, already knowing he’ll make fun of him for it later. "Lovingly" of course. </p>
<p>“Impatient much?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. I want you so bad," Keith says quietly, like it’s a secret. The pad of his thumb runs along the bottom of Lance’s lip, shockingly gentle. Lance’s eyes widen. "I've always wanted you."</p>
<p>Keith could have him whenever he wants - they’ve been bangin’ out the bad boogey for months now. Lance is trying not to let the blatant shock and confusion show on his face. He doesn’t think it’s working because the more confused he is, the more exasperated Keith looks.</p>
<p>Keith continues and his voice is raspy and ragged with borderline annoyance. “You're my best friend, too Lance. You're my reason for coming home. You oblivious moron. How can you not know?" </p>
<p>“Woa,” Lance breathes. His heart has started drumming in double time. He might actually pass out. </p>
<p>Then, after a tick- "Wait, hold on. How am <em>I </em>theoblivious one here?" Lance asks, laced with incredulity when he considers how Keith's statement went from sweet to insulting in a mere breath.</p>
<p>"Because I'm <em>trying</em> to tell you I want to <em>be with you</em>, Lance. Even if it's only ever like this." His voice breaks and Lance feels his mouth drop open.</p>
<p>Lance blinks. A warmth starts in his chest and spreads all the way to his fingers and toes - yep, he’s definitely going to casually die here. He can think of worse places.</p>
<p>"Holy shit. You..?" He points at himself. "Me?" Keith nods, eyes wide. His entire face is red, even his nose and forehead. It’s adorable.</p>
<p>The last time he was <em>this</em> cherry red was when Lance had been too sick to finish a mission even though Lance <em>told </em>him it was '<em>just</em> a cold! Not everyone can have a Garla immune system, <em>Keith!' </em>Keith hadn’t let anyone touch him, not even the other blades, and had carried him to the sleeping quarters. Which was and is incredibly embarrassing. Although not nearly as embarrassing as when Lance had totally taken advantage of the situation by snuggling into his chest and asking ‘what would I do without you?’ Keith had turned red so fast Lance had thought he’d gotten him sick too. Later, he'd blamed the moment of weakness on his cold. </p>
<p>Then a thought occurs to him and he squints. "Wait. I just need to clarify. You mean you want to 'be with me' as in like -"</p>
<p>Keith immediately looks pissed, like Lance has activated his default setting. "You know what I mean." There's something swimming beneath his glare that looks like fear, but Lance still needs to be <em>sure.</em> </p>
<p>"But you never even kissed me until today! Plus, it's kind of cheating to wait until I'm between your legs," Lance adds with a laugh, sounding perhaps a bit manic with emotion and forced humor. </p>
<p>"Obviously I didn't want you to hate me! What we had was already more than enough." Lance doesn't particularly love that he uses the past tense to describe their relationship. "But you had to go and say all <em>that</em> so I thought maybe you also felt-" Keith's speaks so quickly the words jumble together, followed by a resigned sigh. He rubs his temples.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. If you don't want to finish this mission with me I'd understand." He shrinks into himself and crosses his arms protectively across his chest. He looks as vulnerable and scared as he did the day he was chosen by the Black Lion. And Lance <em>feels. </em></p>
<p>He’d have done anything for Keith in that moment, sprawled out above him looking like that. Lance rubs his knee and places a kiss there.</p>
<p>“Keith. Red. You beautiful idiot. Do you know how long I've been in love with you?" Dark indigo eyes blow wide and blink owlishly. His hands clench, like he’s still holding himself together.</p>
<p>Lance doesn't wait for an answer. "Me neither. It's been so damn long I can't remember. Even when I claimed to hate you I didn't hate you." He snorts - Keith looks so flustered Lance can practically see steam coming out his ears. His eyes are suspiciously watery again. </p>
<p>Lance can't help the way his voice lowers and darkens as he adds, "In fact, after we'd fight on the Castleship, in the training room, on the flight deck, <em>wherever</em> - there were nights when I'd immediately go back to my room and think about you. Your voice, your hair, your smell<em>. </em>The way you fight, how serious you are when you fly. Dios, <em>Keith</em>. Don’t be sorry. I want you too. Any way you'll have me." </p>
<p>Keith tries to smile, but his lips are trembling. He nods and blinks rapidly. Lance’s fingers subconsciously massage his legs as he peers up at the man he <em>loves. </em>Keith, who loves him <em>back. </em>They both endure a silence fraught with emotion.</p>
<p>After <em>far</em> too long, Keith groans and shift uncomfortably. "Ugh, how am I <em>still</em> hard! I've never been edged this long." For a moment Lance stares at him. </p>
<p>Then Lance's cheeks puff up and he guffaws, loud and hearty (and embarrassingly giggly.)</p>
<p>"Well okay then. That might be the best conversation-ender I've ever heard.” He's never going to let Keith forget it. </p>
<p>"We are not finished with this conversation. But yeah, I don't think I can take much more talking." Keith's eyes are glittering with sharp-edged excitement. </p>
<p>Lance gasps, "Shoot first and ask questions later? Doesn't sound like something <em>you</em> would do." Keith grins in response, fangs on display. Lance wonders whether he'll survive the night. It feels like the first night of many nights. A beginning. "Okay, Red. How do you want it?" </p>
<p>Keith wastes no time. “Here. Give it to me here.” Lance almost creams his pants when Keith reaches down with pale fingers to thumb the space just below his cock. Lithely, he spreads his legs to hang and dangle over the armrests. Lance’s eyes are drawn to the divot between his cheeks, his hole clenching on nothing and pulsing against the fabric of the suit. Keith is subconsciously grinding his tight ass against the seat of the chair. Lance swallows.</p>
<p>“Keep holding yourself open like that, baby.” Keith nods, eyelids fluttering. It’s the most agreeable he’s ever been. Lance cannot believe the direction this day has taken. </p>
<p>Reaching with purpose, Lance finds Keith’s twitching hole through the fabric. He peers up at Keith, massaging gently. The look he receives in return is a bit predatory, and Lance shivers. Holding eye contact, he presses until it gives, allowing the tip of a finger into his hole. The wet friction against the suit produces a particularly obscene squelch and Keith makes a strangled sound, his cheeks practically on fire.</p>
<p>"Shut up," he snaps.</p>
<p>"I didn't say anything," Lance says innocently. Keith glares at him. "Okay, I have to say it. I fucking love this suit," Lance huffs. Keith looks like he has some choice words in response to <em>that</em>, but Lance twists his finger. Keith's complaint transforms into a moan as gently fucks him through the suit like that, watching Keith jolt against the pilot's chair.</p>
<p>Keith clenches noisily and wetly around Lance’s fingers. Lance’s cheeks brush Keith’s fingers as he nuzzles into his thigh, hovering to huff hot breaths between his legs. The slick shines, pooling darkly at the core of his spread hole. He groans at the heat, taking an audible breath of Keith’s smoky, raw concentrated scent. God, he’s so hard.</p>
<p>“Pervert,” Keith’s sounds out of breath like he’s just been running. Lance chuckles.</p>
<p>“Don’t crash,” he murmurs.</p>
<p>“It’s on auto-pilot, stupid-”</p>
<p>The complaint cuts off sharply when Lance plants a succession of kisses in an arc, butterflying over Keith’s trembling fingers. He replaces them with his own, thumbs spreading him on either side and stretching the material tight over his skin. He can feel Keith watching him with a heated gaze. Lance's skin prickles as he does what he's been wanting to do <em>all </em>night. He flattens his tongue against Keith's hole and licks a long stripe. Keith whimpers airily. Hoping to draw out a sound equally as lovely, Lance laps at the tight ring and sucks hard, the suit pillowing at his lips. Lance blinks, realizing he can taste the man's crisp natural scent <em>through</em> the suit. He moans and kneads cheeks.</p>
<p>Lance hooks his arm around a thigh, dragging Keith closer until he slides down the seat with a yelp. Keith scrambles for purchase, biceps flexing as he reaches back and latches onto the seatback above his head, body straining beautifully. Keith’s brows are pulled together and his jaw gapes open as the cabin fills with slick sounds and hitching cries.</p>
<p>Keith's cries become almost pained and he grasps the metal of the seatback so hard Lance thinks it might break, so he unlatches his mouth. The sound Keith makes in response is much scarier.</p>
<p>"Why are you stopping?" He barks. Lance can't help but laugh. <em>So bossy.</em></p>
<p>"Wouldn't dream of it!" </p>
<p>Tan fingers pinch at the slick fabric, fumbling for purchase, only to let it back to slap over the sensitive skin of Keith's spread cheeks. He does it again, snapping it just over his hole. Keith gasps and thrusts into his face. Lance holds his legs apart, unable to resist sinking his teeth into his sensitive inner thigh. Keith's back arches so sharply he almost slumps to the floor. He's always had a thing for biting. </p>
<p>The view above him is erotic and shockingly beautiful. Keith couldn't be splayed out over the chair anymore perfectly than he is, the suit pinching him as he squirms and showing off his pert nipples. His bangs are slicked to his forehead and his pouty mouth is a perpetual 'O' of pleasure. Lance shoves his hand down his own pants with none of the finesse he's paid to Keith and rubs hard at his own aching length. </p>
<p>Lance feels warm fingers tuck his overgrown bangs behind his ear. Keith does so with careful tenderness and Lance chokes, cheeks warming.</p>
<p>"So pretty," he whispers, head cocked as he stares reverently down at Lance. </p>
<p>Lance twists at the neck to press a kiss over Keith's fingers. He guides Keith's hands to his head and feels fingers curl into his hair at the base of his neck somewhat cautiously. Lance murmurs into the fabric, "Use me."</p>
<p>Keith bites his lip and nods slowly, eyes so dark with lust that Lance can't detect any violet. Keith, not needing to be told twice, presses Lance's face into his crotch and he points his tongue. He prods along Keith's rim, the suit hissing wetly when Keith hits the angle just right and he thrusts in. Keith controls the speed and Lance curls his tongue as far as the stretch of the suit will allow. Keith rotates his hips in a jerky circle against Lance's mouth, ass repeatedly bucking and trembling. Lance has a tick to marvel at his strength and ability to maneuver in this position, but he's distracted when Keith's eyes roll back. Lance hums happily when Keith holds his face in place, entire lower body vibrating. He pushes in and sucks hard as though he doesn't need to breathe air to live. </p>
<p>“Stop. M’gonna cum,” Keith murmurs.</p>
<p>Lance purses his lips. “That's kind of the point, sweetheart."</p>
<p>"No. I want to cum with you. Come up here." </p>
<p>Lance mock shivers. "Hard to argue with that," he says cheekily. </p>
<p>Lance stands and immediately trips. Which is not surprising given all his blood has rushed to his dick. Keith pulls him down by the hips before he can tumble head-first into the control panel and send them straight into a chunk of passing space debris. </p>
<p>Lance spreads his thighs across Keith's lap and loops his arms around his neck. He wants to finish Keith off with nothing between them. No suits, no arguing, and no secrets. Well. Maybe just a little bit of arguing. </p>
<p>The BOM suit is always a dilemma, however. Lance frowns down at the location above Keith's groin. The secret latch eludes him as usual as he fumbles uselessly to find it. He hears a snicker and turns a glare on Keith. </p>
<p>"Just let me do it," Keith says, doing a very poor job of concealing his smile. Embarrassingly, Keith makes quick work of it. His cock is revealed through the front slit, gorgeous and flushed an angry red. Lance licks his lips at the sight. </p>
<p>"Well <em>hello</em> there," Lance purrs.</p>
<p>Keith straight up ignores him. Which is rude. </p>
<p>"Together?" he asks quietly, almost imploringly. And. That's not playing fair. </p>
<p>Lance scoots until they are flush together and their cocks brush. Lance curls his fingers around them both, squeezing the flushed heads together. His own cock pulses hotly against Keith's length and they both slide wetly in his hands. They're both so close. Which is more embarrassing for Lance given he's been doing all the touching here. But honestly, who could blame him? On impulse, he leaves a soft kiss behind Keith's ear. Shockingly, Keith moans long and low at that and Lance raises a brow at him.</p>
<p>"Really? I suck your dick and a kiss gets you hot?" </p>
<p>Keith swallows and too many expressions flicker across his features for Lance to latch onto any one in his dizzy state. When Keith speaks, his voice is soft but even.</p>
<p>"Wanted to kiss you. For so long, Lance. Thought the first time might be the only chance I'd get." Lance brings his hands to cup Keith's hot cheeks, thumbs pressing cute dimples into his skin. Something on his face must give him away because Keith huffs a pleased little sigh. Lance immediately loves the sound. </p>
<p>"That's cheating," Lance whispers.  </p>
<p>"I didn't know there were rules." </p>
<p>Lance's thumb strokes his cheek and settles in the poof of hair at his ear. "There aren't any rules anymore. You can kiss me whenever you want, Keith." Keith's eyes darken and his face warms under Lance's touch. Lance raises his brows, playfully mockingly. "I know I'm truly making a great sacrifice here. Please hold your applause-" Keith chuckles, the sound wheezy and low. But he looks <em>happy.</em></p>
<p>"Oh my god. Stop talking." Keith surges forward and his lips are on Lance's, slotting together crookedly. Lance returns the pressure with a gentle incline of his head and sinks into Keith's strong grip, letting him balance them both. Keith hums and there's something slightly inhuman about it, which is <em>extremely</em> hot - maybe he'll start purring or something and then Lance can hold it over his head forever. Lance grins against his mouth and Keith pinches at his thigh. </p>
<p>Lance whines and tugs at Keith's hair as he licks into his mouth, their tongues curling. Keith angles his head, jaw pressing into Lance's palm. He slides his tongue along Lance's, stroking it and flicking at the tip. He snags Lance's aching lip between his teeth and tugs. For a terrifying second, Lance thinks he'll come like this. </p>
<p>Keith jumps when Lance slaps his palm on the headrest beside his head, a devilish fire in his eyes. <em>A little competition never hurt anybody</em>, he thinks deliriously. Their teeth knock together for a moment as Lance delves back in, trying to regain some control. Lance traces a path along the sensitive roof of his mouth and suckles on his tongue. He relishes the moment when Keith's eyes flash yellow. Keith squints at him and grips Lance's hips in place while he grinds up. </p>
<p>"Fuck!" Lance shouts, loud in the small space. </p>
<p>"Oops," Keith responds, not looking very sorry at all.</p>
<p>"<em>You sir</em>, are a sore loser!" </p>
<p>Keith grins. "No rules, remember?" He rolls his hips hard again and Lance jolts. The tips of their cocks kiss. He looks pleadingly at Keith. </p>
<p>"Get us wet, baby. I'm so close," Lance breathes the words into Keith's neck. He meant for him to use spit or something, but Keith (with a flash of teeth that's either a smile or a snarl) dips his fingers into the suit's front slit again and Lance's heart rate spikes. <em>Oh my god. This sexy man. </em>Keith's pale fingers return dripping with slick and he strokes their cocks together to spread it along their lengths. </p>
<p>"How can you be this hot? You're a glitch or something," Lance says. It comes out as more of a groan. He's not joking but Keith laughs. </p>
<p>"Dork."</p>
<p>Lance links his finger's with Keith's. They work their cocks in tandem, hands shaking. Keith's cock gushes pre-come onto Lance and dribbles down his shaft. "So fucking hot. You made such a mess, love."</p>
<p>"Speak for yourself," Keith groans. Their dicks slap together soppily, covered in each other's wetness. Lance's eyes roll at the sight of his cock jerking in heavy pulses against Keith's. Keith knows just how he likes it, loose over his shaft and tight over the head, wrist flicking sharply. He thumbs both the tips together, kneading against their slits. A webbed line of slick connects the two heads.</p>
<p>Lance cries out, the base of his spine tingling with the familiar sensation. His cock jumps.</p>
<p>Keith’s eyes flash yellow. "Yeah, fuck. Can feel you throbbing. Cum on me, Lance." </p>
<p>
  <em>Well fuck.</em>
</p>
<p>"Agh!" Lance hisses. Keith's attention is only for him, watching with sizzling molten eyes. Lance bucks his hips, pelvis stuttering and halting as his entire body flashes cold and hot. His spend shoots all over Keith's cock, one long stripe falling over his red-flushed slit and thumb, still absentmindedly stroking as he watches Lance.</p>
<p>"So beautiful," Keith whispers, gently working him through the aftershocks.</p>
<p>Lance pants against him, blinking through the haze to see the cum speckled and striped along his suit. Keith's dick is still standing stiff and proud, gorgeously red and spattered with white. Lance can’t help himself. He rubs his thumb through the slit of that hard cock and down his trembling length, kneading his own cum into the pale skin. </p>
<p>"You wanted my cum on your pretty dick?" Lance asks, eyeing Keith's convulsing hips. The man squirms and bucks in the chair as Lance strokes him faster and faster, watching his hips rise up off the seat<em>.</em> The soppy slap of Keith's cock against him has his own dick twitching with interest.</p>
<p>"Are you close, Keith? Coño, you look good." Lance tightens his thighs and uses his arm to hold the man in place, forcing him to take it. Keith's eyes roll back and he cums with a full-body jolt and a silent scream. Lance pumps him slowly, watching the fresh stripes of cum decorate his flat stomach and chest. A dark enjoyment curls in Lance's stomach as he watches their hot cum overlap, some spattering high enough to paint the medals on his chest.</p>
<p>Keith's gaze is hazy as he blinks. He’s still breathing roughly, but he looks soft and content. "Lance?" he asks. </p>
<p>"Mm?" Lance brushes his braid over his shoulder to avoid the mess when he stands up.</p>
<p>"I love you too. Date me?" </p>
<p>Lance shrieks with laughter. </p>
<p>"You're so damn romantic, Keith." He tugs Keith's braid, bringing their flushed faces close, and kisses him until they're both grinning so hard they can't anymore. </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>1.This was super indulgent oops - like seriously, this was supposed to be PWP real quick in Keith's ship, guys. This one got away from me.<br/>2. Why do I love post-season 8 fics so much? lol<br/>3. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it &amp; Have a lovely day ~</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>